Nocticadia

by Keri Lake

Calling her beautiful was like calling the sun lukewarm. She’d blazed like the hottest part of a flame in that dress. And fuck me, I’d felt the heat.

“Deep waters terrify me.” “Or perhaps it’s the sea who fears the depths of you, Miss Vespertine.” The amusement in his voice and dimple in his cheek told me the comment wasn’t serious,

“Under different circumstances …” The pause in his words carried a laborious heartbeat that smothered my own, as I watched the slightest smile play on his lips. A beat of hesitation. “I might’ve pursued you.” A nervous rush of breath escaped me. I gripped the strap of my bookbag in some faulty attempt to hold my composure, and swallowed past the dryness in my throat. “And I might’ve let you.” The bus rolled to a stop, absolutely killing the moment. If it counted as a moment. “Goodnight, Professor.”